


Paintball Warriors

by rudbeckia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Outdoor Sex, Shore Leave, Teambuilding, sex not described in much detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22546684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Supreme Leader Kylo Ren decrees that all officers must have shore leave. Then someone suggests teambuilding activities.Hux isn’t convinced, but paintballing turns out to be far more entertaining than he ever imagined.For Kylux Positivity week, day 2 - shore leave
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week 2020





	Paintball Warriors

”Call it a team-building mission rather than shore leave,” Kylo Ren commands, “if that helps.”  
“Supreme Leader, I fail to see the—”  
Ren holds up a hand and Hux stops talking. There’s no threat in it, not really, and no force induced paralysis of the intercostal muscles and diaphragm. Ren smiles. Hux takes a deep breath and clenches his fists under the table.  
“Stop talking,” Ren says, as if bored already. “I have decided that all officers will take three standard days’ leave. You will see to it that a suitable rotation is arranged and that you are included in it. Understood?”  
“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux says, eyes downcast and cheeks spotted with pink. “Understood.”

 _He thinks I’m going to leave him behind,_ Ren realises, picking up on Hux’s fears. _He thinks I’ll leave with his ship and strand him planetside._

“In addition, General Hux,” Ren says with a slight, lopsided smile. “You will assign me three days of team-building activities too.” Hux raises his eyes and his eyebrows. Ren lets his smile expand for a second, then adds, “With you. Prepare your schedule and bring it to me for approval in two hours.” Hux’s face tightens and he resumes his minute study of the table surface. Ren looks around at the other officers seated at the table. “Well?” he says. “Any more objections?”  
“No sir,” one of the other generals says, shaking her head briskly. “Thank you for granting shore leave.”  
“I’m sure all the officers will be very grateful,” another chimes in. “We could organise... activities. You know. Paintballing.”  
All eyes turn to the unfortunate general who just spoke and the room falls uncomfortably silent.  
“Whatever the Supreme Leader commands,” Hux says, a little relief in his voice because someone else proved themselves worthy of Ren’s scorn. But the supreme leader frowns for a second or two then says the thing Hux least expects.  
“Oh? Very well. General Hux, draw up a schedule of activities. Make sure paintballing is included. Dismissed.”

Hux hangs back, the last to stand and salute, the last to turn toward the door.  
“Did you have something more to say, general?” Ren asks, suppressing the grin that’s desperate to break out.  
“Paintballing, sir?” Hux sighs. “I would have thought that giving the crew toy guns to shoot at one another would be a little, well, pathetic, given that we are all trained to use real blasters on the enemy and required to hone our skills regularly in combat simulations.”  
“You’re worried that you’ll lose,” Ren says dismissively.  
“I am not!” Hux blurts angrily, then catches himself. “I mean, of course I will draw up a schedule of activities that the crew may take part in. But I, as the organiser, will not be competing.”  
“Yes, you will,” Ren says, letting his grin show his teeth at last. “And so will I.”

And so, four days later, Hux finds himself standing beside Kylo Ren, wearing the most ridiculous camouflage coveralls he has ever had the misfortune to clap his eyes on over his standard issue sports gear, and shaking a hopper that dispenses little spheres of pink paint into the barrel of a badly made model blaster, ready to be puffed out by a blast of nothing more dangerous than compressed air.  
“These are terribly poorly designed,” Hux complains as he checks the mechanism and finds faults, check the paintballs and plucks out a few misshapen ones that will jam in the feed.  
“Blaming your weapon already?” Ren says. “Might have known you’d get your excuses in early.”  
“May I simply state, one more time, that this is a phenomenal waste of time that I could be spending on recruitment, motivational holos, and taking back control over the Stormtrooper conditioning programme.”  
“No you may not, general.” Ren gestures at Hux to be quiet. “Shush. The pretend-captain is explaining the rules of the game.”

Hux pays minimal attention, determined to hide out for the entire game or, better, to get himself a tell-tale pink splodge as quickly as possible then drink weak tea in the grubby café for the rest of the afternoon.  
“Hux!”  
Hux frowns at Ren for disturbing his musing on new recruitment initiatives and the possibility of a series of five-minute holos on topics such as _Efficient Personal Grooming for the First Order_. “Yes, Supreme Leader?”  
“This game needs a captured rebel spy prisoner. You’re it. I’m your guard. The opposing team have to recover you and take you back to their base to win.”  
Hux’s stomach churns and he’s sure his voice will betray his sudden alarm. “You’re kriffing kidding me, right?”  
“Nope.” Ren grins. “Come with me, rebel scum. And hand over your weapon.”  
Rolling his eyes, Hux hands Ren his paintball blaster and allows himself to be marched off into the scrubby woodland that has been designated the _Paintball War Zone_. At least, he thinks, he doesn’t have to do much.

Ren directs Hux into a copse heavily covered with some chest-high shrub with dark, glossy leaves, gnarled branches and clusters of the prettiest pink flowers Hux has ever seen. He’s directed to sit on the dry leaf litter, hidden from view by the thick foliage. He picks a flower to study its slender base, flaring out to a showy frill that houses stamens rich with pollen, and he tentatively sniffs its faint scent. Here and there bees buzz from bloom to bloom and the afternoon sunlight dapples through the greenery to dance on the ground. He hears a slight cough and frowns at Ren.  
“What?”  
“You,” Ren says. “You actually looked relaxed for a second. It’s a good look on you.”  
“What are you talking about?” Hux frowns deeper. “Shouldn’t you be shutting up so the other team can’t hear you and find me?”  
“Of course,” Ren replies with a smile, settling beside Hux and pulling off his visor and tunic. “All I have to do is hide you here, keep you quiet, and shoot anyone who comes within range.”

Hux can hear the distant laughs and delighted shrieks of the crew members who came planetside with them. He’s lying on his back with his visor off and his camo-tunic rolled up and padded under his head. His eyes are closed, the filtered sunlight is warm on his pale skin, and the subtle scent of the blooms somehow lightens his mood. He doesn’t even mind that Supreme Leader Kylo Ren is lying beside him, apparently asleep. For the sake of the game, Hux knows he should alert the rest of the team to his location, but that would mean _playing the stupid game_ for kriff’s sake.

He shifts to ease the ache from a root digging into his hip and Ren is awake in a flash. “Not sneaking off, are you, you scum-born, rebel spy?” Ren asks, half-sitting and leaning over Hux.  
“No,” Hux replies. “Sorry to spoil your fun, but I’m quite content to wait here for everyone else to get bored and give up. Besides, remind me which one of us is born of rebel scum?”  
Hux holds his breath waiting for Ren’s retaliation, but all he says is, “They won’t find us. I made sure of that already.”  
“Oh.” Relieved, Hux closes his eyes again. “If you used the Force I think that would count as cheating, and if we can’t be found, they might think you brought me out here to dispose of me.”  
“If I wanted to dispose of you, I’d choke you at the conference table as a message to the other sycophants that I am not to be opposed. _You_ were the spy, weren’t you?”  
Hux sits up so fast his head spins. “Supreme Leader, I—”  
“Shut up, Hux.” Ren sits up too and laughs. “I only want to hear it from you personally. You set up Pryde perfectly. His face was a picture when you had your executioner swap the baster for a plasma axe, then wielded it yourself. Your hatred. And your cold fury. They were intoxicating.”  
Hux looks warily at Ren. “If you knew I was the spy and I set Pryde up to take the fall for it, why am I still alive?”  
“Because,” Ren says, “I like you that way. And you leaked information in a way that was useful to me. So you were still loyal. To me, personally, whilst betraying the Final Order. From a certain point of view.”  
“Yes, well,” Hux says, looking away. “Better the Force-wielding maniac we know than the Force-wielding maniac we don’t.”  
Again, Hux braces for retaliation that doesn’t come. Ren laughs. “That’s the closest you have ever come to saying you like me, Hux. Be careful or I might decide to kiss you.”  
“You won’t,” Hux says. “Not your style. You’re like some kid who thinks they have to be a bully to get attention.”

Lightning-quick, Ren cups Hux’s face with both hands and kisses him. Hux garbles a cry of alarm and jerks back. If he’d had warning, if he’d imagined in advance that the Supreme Leader might try to kiss him, he would have been sure that he would have rebuffed the clumsy advance with a smart slap and a cutting put-down. But it is so unlikely that Hux scarcely believes it just happened.  
“Um,” he says. “Supreme Leader, ah—”  
That’s when Ren leans forward, one hand brushing Hux’s jaw, lips almost touching, waiting, and says, “You want this. I think you do. Take it.”

He should say no and deny all those moments when he has lain awake wondering what it would be like to kiss Kylo Ren, to see the man again instead of the monster.

He should say no and deny the thrill he always gets when someone else is the object of Kylo’s terrifying power.

He should say no and deny the short circuit between his brain and his groin telling him to _kriffing_ take what he wants.

Hux sucks his lip between his teeth once then leans forward and kisses Ren. Ren’s hand slips behind Hux’s head, holding him gently in place. Ren’s other hand lands on Hux’s shoulder and pushes insistently until Hux reclines on the ground. Ren lies on his side facing Hux, one solid thigh resting across Hux’s legs. This time when Ren kisses him, Hux feels Ren’s warm hand slip under the cheap fabric of the camouflage suit, under the finer fabric of his exercise pants, and clasp his hardening cock.

“I want—” Hux says, but Ren’s ahead of him, hands off for the moment so he can shimmy his pants down and free his cock. Hux laughs and copies, rucking up his vest top. “Aren’t you worried someone will find us like this?”  
“No,” Ren says. “Come here. Touch me.”  
Hux shuffles closer. He wraps his hand around Ren’s cock and gasps when Ren does the same to him. To his surprise, Ren is gentle.  
“Imagine,” Ren murmurs after a scant minute of mutually stroking each other’s cocks, “if someone did see us like this.”  
Hux whimpers at the sudden hot surge in his groin.  
“Imagine one of your lieutenants seeing you helpless for me.”  
Hux gasps. He’s so close, so close now. Ren’s voice lowers and he breathes words into Hux’s ear.  
“Can I hear footsteps? Do you think someone might see you come for me?”  
And then Hux is coming hard, breathing in ragged, panting gasps, stifled by Ren’s lips on his.

He wipes his stomach with the camouflage top and tosses it aside. Before reality can crash back and prevent him with day to day cares, Hux pushes Ren onto his back, straddles his knees and leans down to suck his cock and tease his balls. The noises Ren makes in response are the most delightful thing Hux thinks he has ever heard.

Later, once the distant sounds of other people’s fun have ended, Hux and Ren walk back to the group of huts that serves as changing room, information station and café. A few lieutenants are still hanging around, swapping stories about at the day’s activities and talking about which cantinas to visit, but soon scurry away. They change back into their outer clothing and walk side by side out of the compound. “You know,” Hux says, as Ren slips an arm around his shoulders, “paintballing is far more fun than I expected. What activity would you like to try tomorrow?”

Ren pretends to give it some thought, then declares wit a snigger that he would like to go paintballing.


End file.
